Cherry Tree
by CeCeLa
Summary: It's spring and the cherry blossoms are at their peak. Seychelles slips away to escape the horrors of war and capture beauties in the day.


Le Sigh, I somehow managed to delete this story on accident after I just put it up last night. Anyways, yes, here it is again.

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><p><span><strong>Cherry Tree:<strong>

_**Spring 2027, Outskirts of Fukushima, Japan**_

The world was at war again. What started as a small dispute blew up into an international fiasco that brought nations from every continent to foreign shores. After a failed reconnaissance mission to Russia, Seychelles and her allies were currently stuck in Japan until reinforcements came to help. While war was a dark business of young men dying and old men talk, she longed to see something beautiful, something real, something_ peaceful_.

_This is spring_, Seychelles sighed happily to herself as she meandered slowly through the cherry trees. Blossoms had reached their peak, and the air was filled with the heady sweetness of cherries and the lazy drone of honeybees. This was the village's unofficial orchard, a sprawling stand of fruit trees less than a mile from base camp. When Japan had brought Seychelles here many summers ago for cherry picking, she'd promised herself to come back for a look in springtime. _It was worth the walk._ Several generations of trees created billowing layers of pink froth from the last time she'd visited. Some of the more venerable specimens towered overhead, while the youngest of saplings proudly waved their blossoms right under the island nation's nose. The overall effect was enchanting.

Seychelles moved in amongst the trees until she was completely surrounded, then slowly turned to take it all in. Just a whisper of a breeze caressed her face, soft with sunshine as it teased random petals free from the bower overhead. Like silken confetti, motes of fragile pink spiraled to the ground in lazy little drifts. One particularly mischievous puff of wind sent a fresh shower of cherry blossoms towards the young woman, and she lifted her face into the sweet cascade, smiling at the feathery touches against her skin. Even her military fatigue pants and black shirt couldn't disturb the serenity. The beauty surrounding her was breathtaking, and her heart ached at the sheer loveliness—a fleeting moment of spring's perfection_. I'm so glad I came._

The island nation continued her quiet stroll, black military boots moved quietly across the grounds, trying to fix the scene into her heart so she could revisit it in her dreams. This part of Japan, this small village on the outskirts of Fukushima remained untouched by the war. If she concentrated hard enough, she could forget that the war existed at all. Closing her eyes, she savored the warm fragrance that perfumed the air. It was then she caught the faintest music, like a wind chime, coming from somewhere nearby. Curious, Seychelles stilled, straining for another note. She was soon rewarded by a second noise that she diagnosed as humming. _This way, I think. _The young woman wove her way amidst the cherry trees, pausing every so often to listen. Finally, the quiet consonance sounded just to the left of where she stood—left, and… overhead. Turning expectant eyes up into the branches of a vast, old tree, Seychelles realized that she wasn't as alone as she'd thought.

France was perched in the low-spreading branches of a gnarled granddaddy of a cherry tree. Back against the trunk and one leg propped up on the limb where he was seated, the Frenchman was gazing contemplatively up into the overhead branches, completely lost in his thoughts. France's rifle as well as military jacket and hat were close by his side, cradled in a nest formed by two branches. Even as Seychelles watched, the blond let out another distinct humming sound.

"Hello, up there," called the island nation softly.

France turned startled eyes downward, but quickly relaxed into a warm smile of welcome. "Hello down there, Seychelles."

The Frenchman dropped his legs down and leaned forward on the branch, propping his elbows against the bark as he considered the young woman below. "Out for a walk?" he asked politely.

Seychelles nodded, covering a smile. She'd never seen France in such an undignified position. His pants were bunched up untidily around his ankles. His long legs, clad in the fatigues, dangled in an ungainly fashion. He was barefoot, having shed his boots and socks to scale the tree, and there were flower petals in his rumpled blond hair. To Seychelles' way of thinking, the Frenchman looked more like an overgrown youth than the representation of France or a military man for that matter. When France grinned and began swinging his legs carelessly, she couldn't suppress a giggle at the boyish picture he made.

"Does something amuse you, Seychelles?" inquired the Frenchman knowingly.

With twinkling eyes, she pointed out the obvious. "You're sitting in a tree."

"Is sitting in trees so unusual?" he countered.

Seychelles shook her head, but contradicted the gesture, "It is for you, France. What are you doing up there?"

"Enjoying the view," returned the Frenchman with a shrug, as if it should be obvious.

Seychelles gazed around at the trees surrounding them, and wondered what it would be like to sit right up amongst the flowers as France was doing. _I'll bet the view is amazing_. "Have you been here long?" she asked curiously.

France leaned back, eyeing the position of the sun in the sky. "Oui, I guess I've been here for a few hours now," he admitted.

"Isn't that seat a bit… uncomfortable after so long?" wondered Seychelles aloud.

The Frenchman smiled and shifted slightly on the branch. "It's not so bad," he assured her. "Besides," he said, sobering, "I wanted to enjoy this spring, just in case…."

Taking his meaning, Seychelles frowned at the pensive cast to France's normally flamboyant countenance. "I'm sure we'll be back next spring, to see the cherry blossoms again. We _all_ will," she pronounced firmly.

Deep blue eyes warming at the girl's insistent optimism, France leaned down a bit and extended his hand towards her. "Join me?" he invited.

Seychelles grinned and unlaced her boots and removed her socks as well. She never cared much for shoes anyway, let alone heavy boots. "I would like to see everything from up there," she said eagerly as she searched for likely handholds on the trunk. "How do I get up?"

France directed Seychelles' ascent, pointing out the best toeholds until she was close enough to grasp his hands. With one firm tug, he lifted her lightly so she could swing her leg over his branch. As soon as she was astride, it occurred to Seychelles that she'd not given much thought to this little venture. She was sitting directly in front of France, facing outwards. The panorama was impressive, but their branch was angled in such a way that the young woman was forced to lean back into France's arms.

For a moment, Seychelles scrabbled, trying to scoot forward and put some distance between herself and the famously lecherous Frenchman. The incline of the branch didn't cooperate with her efforts, and so the island nation ended up leaning forward, clinging to the limb like a desperate monkey. France was completely confused by her antics. "Seychelles? I never knew you were afraid of heights."

Seychelles laughed uncomfortably. "Ah, no. Not exactly," she hedged, peeping over her shoulder at France.

The light of understanding dawned on the Frenchman's face, and he couldn't keep the amusement from his tone. "Are you trying to get away from me, moi cherie?"

"Maybe," she mumbled, feeling foolish.

France's hands gently gripped her arms, disentangling her grapple-hold on the branch. Seychelles reluctantly allowed herself to be eased back until she could feel a chuckle reverberate through the broad chest she came to rest against. "Relax. I didn't invite you up here to take advantage of you. I'll behave."

The young woman twisted around to give France a hard stare, but when the Frenchman met her skeptical look with guileless innocence, she merely huffed and turned to face forward again. She shifted a little against the rough bark, trying to get comfortable with her sudden proximity to the man behind her. True to his word, France's wandering hands kept to themselves, and Seychelles began to relax. Leaning her head back against the Frenchman's shoulder, she looked up at the patterns of pink flowers against blue skies above them. After several minutes of quiet, she finally ventured to speak. "France?"

"Mm-hmm?" came a lazy response.

"Why does seeing something this beautiful make me feel both full and empty?"

The Frenchman took a moment to gather his thoughts before answering. "When we are in the presence of loveliness, it nourishes the soul. The fullness you feel comes from recognizing real beauty and allowing it to touch you." At this, he paused in consideration. "The emptiness probably comes from knowing that beauty is fleeting in this world. We cannot hang onto it, and so we are always longing for more."

"Oh," the island nation said softly, as she followed a dance of petals that fluttered by. "I wish we could hang onto this just a little longer," she said, motioning towards the sea of flowers that lay before them.

"Perhaps if you could keep it longer, you'd take it for granted, non?" suggested France.

"You mean it wouldn't be so precious if it weren't so rare?" asked Seychelles.

"Exactly," affirmed the Frenchman.

Seychelles sighed. "Lately, I've tried to remember times like this. I have memories of beautiful things, but they sort of fade after a while in light of everything else."

"Oui," agreed France. "At least with something like the cherry blossoms, we have the hope of seeing them again next year. Some beauty is more elusive."

Puzzled, Seychelles asked, "What are you talking about, France?"

France shifted slightly behind her and she felt his fingers brush the top of her head. Looking over her shoulder at him, he smiled apologetically. "You have flowers in your hair, Seychelles." Making a silent 'o' she settled back again, waiting for the Frenchman to continue. France took his time about answering, busying himself by plucking petals gently from Seychelles' dark tresses. Finally, he resumed. "Sometime we cross paths with something uniquely beautiful just once in our lifetime. We are fortunate if we recognize it at the time and appreciate just how special it is. When we are given something so precious to hold, even if it is just for a little while, we must cherish every moment it's in our grasp." France's hands had settled onto Seychelles' shoulders, and he gave them a gentle squeeze.

"What if we don't realize something is 'uniquely beautiful' until it is already gone?" she asked, sifting through some of her favorite memories.

"That is the way it often is, Seychelles," France said softly. "We don't appreciate what we have until it has been taken away."

Seychelles pondered that for a little while before speaking again. "France? Wouldn't it be better to _know_ something is precious, and keep it close for always?"

"If I was given the opportunity to do so, I certainly would," replied France seriously.

After a moment Seychelles looked back up into the Frenchman's calm face. "You really are wise under all that groping, aren't you?"

France's smile had a wry twist to it. "Perhaps our situation as countries keeps me from taking anything for granted, Seychelles."

"Is that why you're here today, then? To catch and hold something beautiful?"

The Frenchman sighed, and then cautiously brought his arms around Seychelles' shoulders, pulling her close and tucking her under his chin. "I'll hold on to this for as long as I can," he said with quiet conviction.

Something in France's tone caused a blush to rise in Seychelles' cheeks, and she was glad he couldn't see her face. "Are we still talking about cherry blossoms, France?" she asked hesitantly.

France hummed gently into her hair before answering with his usual lightness, "Of course, Seychelles. Of what else _would_ I be speaking?"

"It just seemed… I don't know. Never mind," trailed off Seychelles uncertainly. She lapsed into a thoughtful silence, but eventually she peeped up at France again. "As the nation of 'love', would you say you've had your share of beautiful things?"

"Ah," France sighed, not answering for several moments. "I cannot say for certain. It really depends."

"On what?"

"I have experienced many beautiful moments; enough to be content," the Frenchman declared evasively.

"But…"

Seychelles could feel France shrug as he answered plainly, "As nations, we are at the mercy of our mortals and others. We forget sometimes that we are not completely immortal. If I knew for certain that my life would not be cut short, this would not be nearly enough."

"You want more?"

"Only if I can keep it," the Frenchman quipped.

Seychelles laughed softly. "Is that larceny or lechery talking?" she teased.

"I have never denied my proclivities, Seychelles," he replied with smug serenity.

"So… you're holding back?"

France didn't answer immediately, and when he did he seemed surprised by his admission, "I suppose I am."

She didn't like his tone, the sound of defeat only midway through a pointless war. "You know, people who know they're going to die soon try to live every day to the fullest because they know each day could be their last." She turned slightly and tilted her head back to catch France's eye. "With you, it's just the opposite. You are holding back from living because you want all or nothing. In a bizarre kind of way, you're not a hedonist; you're a regular ascetic."

France laughter rolled out across the orchard, "That's the first time anyone has ever called me an ascetic. I hardly think I qualify, Seychelles."

"Well… ascetic for you," she amended determinedly. "You deserve beautiful things too, France. Just because your future is uncertain today doesn't mean you should give up on the things you want from life."

"I haven't given up completely, Seychelles."

"Still, you should live without regrets. I mean, none of us knows how long we will live, do we? Not even humans." Seychelles insisted.

"No regrets, hmm?" France murmured close to the young woman's ear.

"That's right," she stated firmly, planting a fist onto her palm for emphasis.

"So… are you granting me permission to indulge my every fancy, Seychelles?" inquired the Frenchman with a smile, nuzzling her gently behind one ear.

"Err, what?" The island nation tried to lean away, only to have France's arms tighten slightly, holding her still as his lips brushed against her neck.

"You did say I should make the most of the days remaining to me, did you not?" the Frenchman reminded her politely.

"No! Well, I _did_ actually, but this is not…"

The Frenchman leaned around and used a finger to turn Seychelles' head so he could meet her gaze. "I thought you didn't want me to hold back?" he grinned, eyes dancing.

"You know I didn't mean…"

"Oh, I know," France nodded happily.

"France!" Seychelles scolded with exasperation, "You stop right now; you said you'd behave!"

"Oui," the Frenchman agreed, giving the end of her nose a playful tweak. "I did at that, though I didn't specify _how_ I would behave."

"Oh, you…" trailed off Seychelles with a little huff. "You can't just go around indiscriminately flirting with women and men. That's not what I meant by having no regrets."

France chuckled as he ran his hands down the young woman's arms as if to smooth her ruffled feathers. "Perhaps the things I would regret most are different than yours, Seychelles," pointed out the Frenchman.

"Well, that's patently obvious," grumbled the island nation, crossing her arms.

"If it makes you feel any better, I do not plan to go around indiscriminately flirting with women and men," France promised.

Seychelles cast him an incredulous look, "It's a little late for that, isn't it?"

"Not at all," assured France. "I intend to heed your advice; I shall henceforth be _very _discriminating with my attentions."

"Uh-huh," Seychelles drawled. "Well, just promise that you won't try that on _me_ again."

"I'm afraid I can't, Seychelles," replied France without penitence.

The young woman sighed, "And why not?"

"I would probably regret it later," the Frenchman whispered conspiratorially.

Seychelles shifted on the branch, turning to deliver a scathing retort, but her anger evaporated at the look on France's face. The pensiveness that had clouded his eyes upon her arrival under the cherry tree was gone, replaced by the shining light of happiness._ He's… enjoying himself; he's actually having fun. _It was something of a relief to see the strain around France's eyes and the tension in his posture melt away. Seychelles' heart felt lighter at the sight, and she couldn't resist the answering smile that curved across her lips. Maybe happiness did exist in such troubled times.

"I've had just about enough of you," she remarked mildly, before resuming her place.

France lapsed into silence, and Seychelles slowly relaxed back against him, allowing the peacefulness of the setting to soak into her soul. She had just managed to recapture some of her wonder over the surrounding beauty when France spoke up.

"I haven't," he declared softly.

Seychelles blinked at the seeming randomness of his statement, and tried to recall where their conversation had left off. "Haven't what?" she finally asked.

"Had enough."

Confused, Seychelles tipped her head to catch France's eye, "Of what?"

"Oh… of this," he replied lightly, turning his eyes back to the sea of cherry blossoms all around them.

"Are we still talking about cherry blossoms, France?" Seychelles asked for the second time that day.

Eyes twinkling, France just shook his head.

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><p><em><span><strong>Totally Irrelevant Facts<strong>:_

_**Word Count**: 2,907 without author's notes_

_**Page Numbers**: 11_

_**Musical Inspiration**: "Complicated", by Nivea; "Come away with me", by Norah Jones_

_Peace, Love and Pasta!_

_-CeCe ^^_


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